Underestimate Me, I Dare You
by SimplexityJane
Summary: Never forget, young witch. Those who are your friends, keep them near you. Those who are your enemies will die beneath your power. Should it take a lifetime, you will destroy them. Rated M for language. Lydia/Jackson, Lydia point of view during Freedom.


**Sequel to Freedom, Lydia's point of view during Freedom and shortly thereafter, when Peter gets a body. **_  
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_Never underestimate me,_ Lydia thought, carefully guarding herself from Peter Hale's mind. Except for the hate, the disgust, the utter disbelief. Those she wouldn't hide. She would show him that and never let him see the other side of it. She slept during school now; she'd been doing that with her eyes open for years. Peter Hale had picked the wrong witch to fuck with.

Even Peter needed sleep.

_Hear now our words, child of the goddess,_ the words in her mother's book said._ Your gift is powerful and great. Your mothers and fathers before you kept the tradition and the faith, as must you. The moon is our guide, as it guides the children of the wolf. We are close to them in birth, but our power will only harm within the rules of exchange. One it goes, three it comes, as we are humans and do not let ourselves forget. Never forget, young witch. Those who are your friends, keep them near you. Those who are your enemies will die beneath your power. Should it take a lifetime, you will destroy them._

She learned why she wanted Jackson so much._ Power will draw you, so choose wisely-_

"Thanks, Mom," she muttered, carefully keeping Peter asleep and reading more. It was the third day.

_For once you choose a lover, you will not easily be swayed from his or her side._

"You know, Lydia, your lover would be healed if Harris was killed and exposed. If you stopped fighting me we could do that together." He sounded like her, the bastard. How dare he talk about Jackson? He was _hers_, hers and no one else's, not even Derek Hale's. If anyone fought her on that after she was rid of this pest she'd kill them herself.

"I hate you," she replied, knowing the mistake even as she spoke. "Go fuck yourself and your ideas. You go anywhere near Jackson and I'll kill you." She let him wrestle control from her without any fight. Right now his spirit was intertwined with hers. Any action would kill her as well as him. He didn't know that, though.

"Language." He seemed actually disappointed she would tell him to fuck himself, considering how much she hated him. "I could kill you, remember? I could easily perform the spell on the full moon while stabbing you in the stomach. I don't have to keep you alive, I'm choosing to because you can give me my life back." _And that would be a death sentence,_ he didn't say, but she knew it. He owed her. He owed her his _life_.

It was hours later that she finally prodded at his consciousness, the urge to just destroy him filling her again. Smiling, he pulled out her powder and said, "What is it, my dear?"

"Can you? I mean, do you know how to expose Harris? I know your big bad plan ends with Derek dead and Jackson a part of your pack anyway, but-" She chose her words very carefully, no lie in them. "Jackson doesn't like owing people, but he pays his debts." _He'll owe me. I won't accept it though. He can't owe me._

"I can expose him with some of your magic. I can make it so that he confesses on tape to the murders before killing himself. A hanging, I think, or perhaps a gun. The truth would come out and your lover would be freed. I'd even let you keep him afterward."

The words sent a thrill of excitement and hatred through her, twisting together uncontrollably. She smiled inside, knowing that it wouldn't be long.

"Do it."

v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v

"It will be over soon, and you can return to your old life."

He didn't mean that, the lie bleeding through her end of the connection all too easily. He was getting sloppy as close to the moon as he was. Didn't even notice the thistle root she'd stashed in her pants while he was sleeping.

She looked up at the moon and he smiled, nodding.

"Soon now."

The body was laid out in the center of the house's living room. It was mud, almost deformed, but it had all the features of a human and skin he'd dug up over his heart.

"Midnight," she reminded him. It was only a few minutes until then, unnaturally bright under the light of the moon. He was disentangling their souls, barely hanging on to his power. She could have pushed him over with a feather, true, but he didn't need to know that.

She felt it when it was time, the circle of ionite and jade glowing and power pulsing under her skin. Peter smiled with her mouth, For the last time, my dear, he promised, and she managed not to even shudder.

"_Cymerwch ac yn rhoi yr ysbryd hwn i'r corff newydd. Gwnewch yn llun o'r ysbryd y corff hwn. Ddaear a Aer, Tân a Dŵr. Uno yn creu corff newydd._" She could feel the power rolling within her, forcing their souls apart. _"Tynnwch yr ysbryd hwn o fy nghorff. Rhoi corff newydd iddo_." It was hers, bright and lavender fresh. Peter Hale was gone now, her breaths totally her own. _"Gwnewch iddo gysgu!"_ she shouted, dropping the thistle root. the circle glowed again and Peter Hale's naked body slumped to the ground, sleeping.

She _soared_. Across town she finally stopped short, feeling Scott's desperation and the evil in Victoria Argent's heart. Dammit, she was still mad at him, but he was her friend. It was all a matter of transferring atoms, really, and everything was connected on a quantum level, and she was staring at Victoria Argent.

"Put the knife down," she said, low in her throat. The woman didn't hesitate before the knife was flying at her. She rolled her eyes while it turned to rubber. "Ow. That really hurt," she deadpanned. "Now unless you want that to happen to your _bones_ next, I suggest you leave."

The woman snarled, smiling just a moment afterward.

"He'll be dead in a few minutes anyway." She was gone in seconds.

Scott was pale and shaking- temperature lower than normal, acute blood loss, sepsis in and around the area of a knife wound on his thigh. Defensive wounds from the same knife on his hands (nothing indicating sepsis in those, perhaps poison confined to one area or powder).

"Lydia," he gasped. "What-"

"I'll explain later," she said. "You guys owe me big time." And she pressed hands to the overheated wound, knowing her eyes would be glowing and seeing the luminescence overlaying her skin already.

Healing wasn't a particular hobby of hers. Her mother had sold love charms and potions to cure baldness and boils, for goodness sake. She didn't know that her daughter had more power than she knew what to do with.

"Heal," she said in English, forcing her will over reality. The aconitum was forced out of his body and sprinkled over the ground, Scott screaming with pain and Lydia gritting her teeth to the sensation. It stopped suddenly and she forced her way back into her own mind, deliberately not reaching for anything else. She still felt the sensation of people behind her, tensed as they approached.

"Lydia?" Stiles asked, making her wince. She turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

"In the flesh. You wouldn't believe the week I just had." She backed away from Scott and let Stiles approach. "You didn't notice I was possessed, for one. Neither did Danny, which is more surprising." She turned to Derek, taking in everything she could notice. "I'm a witch, if that little display didn't tip you off." A tug on her skin and she saw a black line of ink running down her arm, clearing away aconitum dust. On a whim she pulled at it until a chain revealed itself, crawling out of her skin with a sensation like dragging metal across her arm. "This is how I'm immune." Yggdrasil hung heavy at the end of the chain, Jörmungandr gnawing at its roots. Pulling the chain through she clasped it around her neck. "Your uncle used me," she hissed, "And now he's inside a circle of jade and ionite sleeping for the next however long, I don't know. He might already be awake."

Everyone stopped. Lydia rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Yes, it's weird, I get it, absorb it and move on. He looks seventeen, he's nuts, he _used my power_ to perform a spell that required his desecrated corpse- thanks for not burying him the traditional way. I know, he's a kinslayer, peace is the last thing he deserves," she continued when Derek growled. "You could have not buried him under the floorboards is all I'm saying."

He was glaring. Even Stiles was starting to come forward. Lydia held out a hand and he stopped.

"Also, I just used magic against a hunter. That might have started a war."


End file.
